


demons in the court

by aeonpathy



Series: put the sun in my hands [13]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Demons, Established Relationship, Halloween, M/M, Magic, Minor Violence, Sexual Tension, Supernatural Elements, Swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27300286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeonpathy/pseuds/aeonpathy
Summary: The Prince of Cidal looks at him with those red eyes of his, captivating in such a way that Mark is immediately drawn to them. He’s dressed up in some half-leather jacket attached with straps, a white, flowy button up, and tight black pants that have Mark stabbing his nails into his palm.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Series: put the sun in my hands [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1128143
Comments: 5
Kudos: 76





	demons in the court

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh happy halloween?? i swear this fic had a different plot and i somehow missed the point entirely

Hell quite literally breaks loose on Hallow’s Eve, much to Mark’s dismay.

He’s in the throne room with his family, having just welcomed the elven royals to their kingdom to celebrate the four day long tradition of the War of the Fallen. 

From what he’s been taught as a child, each year, one out of the seven kingdoms throws the festival, and all the other royal families travel to that host kingdom to celebrate together. 

Mark’s in the middle of talking to Jeno when a swirling void appears in the center of the throne room. His father and mother stand at once and descend down the stairs, ready for what’s to come. He and Jeno follow behind them.

Four figures walk through the portal, and seconds later big, ornate trunks filled with clothes and gifts appear at their feet. The void soon dissipates behind them. Mark’s heart pounds steadily.

Demons aren’t what people tend to expect. There’s no pale skin, sharp teeth, no tails or talons, or obnoxious bloodshed. They’re wearing grey yeti fur hoods attached to a black cape, all with a noticeable family crest embroidered in the center. When they pull back their hoods, Mark gets whiplash for the one-hundredth time.

Instead, the demons he observes have sunny, tan skin, piercing red eyes, onyx horns that rest above their hairlines, and wicked grins. 

“You’re early for once,” Mark’s father laughs, pulling the Demon King into a hearty hug. He does the same to the king’s husband and the princess, while Mark’s mother smiles warmly up at them and hugs them just the same.

Mark and Jeno greet them, too, but Mark’s more focused on something else. He’s not subtle about it, either, because his brother fake heaves next to him and shoves him towards Prince Donghyuck.

The Prince of Cidal looks at him with those red eyes of his, captivating in such a way that Mark is immediately drawn to them. He’s dressed up in some half-leather jacket attached with straps, a white, flowy button up, and tight black pants that have Mark stabbing his nails into his palm.

He doesn’t even bother saying hello, arms snaking around the prince’s torso and kissing the demon on the forehead. He then tightens his arms and stuffs his face into the crook of the other’s neck.

“Not even a hello?” Donghyuck chuckles, craning over and playfully nipping at Mark’s neck. “I’d expect better manners from a prince, nonetheless from a human.” 

Mark pinches his side and reluctantly pulls his head out of the comfort of Donghyuck’s shoulder. 

“I missed you,” he whispers, swaying them back and forth, “and you know I’d rather get straight to kissing you.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. 

“Wanna help me unpack? I brought a lot of stuff with me this time,” Donghyuck says, and his eyes glow bright for a second.

Mark smirks and holds his arm out, scrunching his sleeve up. On his wrist rests ruby and onyx gems through a silver chain, the lily charm in the center pulsing with dark magic.

“Can’t pull any demon magic on me, baby,” Mark murmurs, “I don’t know why you’d try that when you’re the one who gave me this.”

“You never take it off,” Donghyuck sighs. 

He looks at the bracelet again. “Why would I? You gave it to me. Said your soul is bound to it.”

“It is,” Donghyuck groans, “made it with a fraction of my soul because I want you to have a piece of me wherever you go. Sometimes I don’t see you for months.”

Mark hums.

“Sweet words from a pretty someone,” Mark says, looking up through his eyelashes. “Are you sure it’s not because you want it to look like you own me?”

Donghyuck’s eyes darken.

“Look like I own you? Baby, _I already do_ , whether you reiterate it or not,” he taunts, tone breathy, rubbing his hands up Mark’s chest in slow, calculated strokes. 

A loud cough from behind Mark makes him turn around, where everyone is looking at them with mild amusement. Jeno, on the other hand, watches on with a maddening, up-to-no-good grin. 

“Alright love birds, you can do all that outside of the throne room,” Mark’s mother says, and Mark’s face flushes scarlet red. Jeno bursts out laughing, and soon, the whole room is giggling.

Donghyuck coughs. Mark turns back and frowns. “Not you too.”

The other shrugs.

Mark’s father speaks up. “Well, I don’t think anyone else is arriving until later tonight, so I think now’s a good time to get settled. I’ll see you all at dinner—but if you wish to speak to me, I’ll be here or in the courtyard.”

The room begins to disperse. Donghyuck digs a satin satchel of presents out of his trunk and gifts it to Jeno, who pulls him into a hug before sending the two of them off.

“Help me unpack?” he says again. Donghyuck mutters something in foreign tongue under his breath, and then his trunk starts to slowly levitate towards them.

There’s not much Mark can do here. He taps the demon on the chin and leans in for a kiss, soft and brief, before walking to the double doors.

“Coming?”

The halls of the castle are tall-rising and stone-cold. They’re covered with light blue tapestries, paintings, and shelves upon shelves of decorations from the other kingdoms. While they walk to Mark’s bedroom, one of the iron lanterns on the wall flickers repeatedly, and then the crystal chandelier above them starts to rock side-to-side. Mark looks in his peripheral and watches as Donghyuck trails a finger up and down his neck. He swallows harshly.

The corner of Donghyuck’s mouth quirks up. 

Eventually, they make it to Mark’s bedroom. The trunk floats right on in behind them, and Mark lightly kicks his door shut. The lock slides into its holder, seemingly by itself, but Mark knows better.

Donghyuck shimmies out of his cape and Mark comes up behind him, kissing down his nape. The other simply makes a noise, covering Mark’s arms currently around his waist. 

“So this is what you planned on doing behind locked doors? Sneaky,” Donghyuck sighs, but there’s no complaint. He lets Mark do whatever he pleases. That is, until he turns to face him and starts to undo the fabric clasp at the collar of Mark’s white cotton blouse. 

Mark holds him closer, itching hands relocating to Donghyuck’s hips instead. 

Donghyuck’s eyes are glowing. Mark clicks his tongue at him.

“If you want something, you have to work harder for it, demon,” Mark says. He takes Donghyuck’s colder hands into his own and stares at him. 

“Your magic has no effect on me, remember?”

The demon prince only blinks at him, his pupils constricting. Mark sees blood in his eyes.

“Not on you, no,” Donghyuck agrees, and his impish smile turns Mark still. The room turns icy, the lights start to flicker just like earlier, and yet Donghyuck manages to look like the epitome of Mark’s wildest dreams.

“But,” he continues, “it doesn’t mean I _can’t_ hurt you, darling.”

A sword materializes in thin air, hovering right above Donghyuck, blade aimed directly at Mark’s head. His breathing is still normal, his gaze steadily narrowed at the demon.

“You’re sexy,” Mark breathes, straightening his posture and raising one of his hands to rest at the base of Donghyuck’s jaw, squeezing his neck. He notices the way Donghyuck’s eyes flutter, notices how his lips part slightly. Mark _burns_ with this knowledge, this power that he has. It’s hellfire thrumming through his veins.

“And you’re right, you can hurt me,” Mark says, applying more pressure, “but who said I was giving in so easy?”

Donghyuck doesn’t answer verbally, opting to show instead. A fog wraps around Mark, constricting his body in the same way his hand does around Donghyuck’s neck. He lets out a soft pant, eyes growing heavy.

“Your bracelet is special,” Donghyuck points out, holding Mark’s gaze. “Not only is it a part of me, but it’s also attuned to my feelings, my power, my _blood._ ”

The fog disappears and Mark’s hand falls from Donghyuck’s neck, but his stomach burns with visceral want. The sword still hovers in the air. Mark reaches for it, the cold, forged blacksteel a familiar weight in his hands. He watches the lily etched into the handle pulse black. 

“Naughty,” Mark croons, pointing the blade right over Donghyuck’s heart. “You want me to hurt you as much as you want to hurt me, don’t you baby?”

Donghyuck exhales a laugh through his nose. 

“Want you to hurt _me?_ I think you like it more than I do,” Donghyuck retorts, stepping back and licking the tip of the blade. 

Mark chokes on air. 

The demon prince smirks, stepping back.

His hands start to flare up with a dark, hazy light. Donghyuck falls backward onto Mark’s bed, his brown hair fanning out and around his face like some halo of ascension even though he’s the farthest being from holy. Mark aches for more, to get closer and touch whatever he can get his hands (or mouth) on, planes of exposed skin and other things.

But the glint in Donghyuck’s eye ticks him off that there’s more at play here. He stands between his sprawled legs, and Donghyuck’s hand reaches up to grab his shirt.

Mark dodges and swings around, the sword in his hand clanging with another that’s been ready to strike. He side-steps and parries another hit. Donghyuck rises from the bed, glowing hands moving, a puppeteer wielding a sword from the shadows.

“You’re insatiable,” Mark grits out, trying to swat the magical sword across the room. It vanishes as soon as he slashes at it, stumbling. 

Donghyuck extends his arms out. More swords materialize and Mark dances around them with ease after he gets used to it, his practice with the royal guard kicking in.

The demon zeroes in on him, cornering him between his dresser and the glass doors leading to his balcony. 

“Nah, I’m just a man with needs and wants,” Donghyuck sings, crossing his arms and then casting them away from his body. The dark light from his hands fade out with a dying stutter.

All of the swords disappear. 

Mark closes his eyes and eases his head against his wall, chest rising and falling. He hears Donghyuck not too far from him, and soon, there’s a body pinned against his. Mark lazily blinks his eyes open and goes for a peck, another, until he gets bored and nibbles on Donghyuck’s bottom lip. He gains interest that way, hand making its way up to his jaw and holding it in place.

He tugs on his lip, Donghyuck opening his mouth in a way that Mark starts to sweat, the room suddenly hot. It’s too stuffy—Mark wants nothing more than to tear the layers of fabric that are in between them. 

Donghyuck braces his arms on both sides of Mark’s head, framing it, and hotly licks the seam of his lips.

He dives deeper, hungry for a taste of whatever he’s willing to give up. Mark lets him take everything he's got, and Donghyuck shoves his tongue down Mark’s throat. 

Mark guides Donghyuck back towards the bed, their kissing getting more frantic as Donghyuck yanks at Mark’s hair. The back of Donghyuck’s knees hit the edge of the frame. Mark pushes, crawling right after him, eyes dark and dilated.

His legs swing over the demon prince’s hips, saddling him before leaning down and brushing his lips over the shell of Donghyuck’s ear. 

He scoots back, looking at Donghyuck as his hands linger at the top of his dress shirt.

“Is this okay?”

Donghyuck nods hurriedly, but Mark doesn’t move. “I need to hear you use your words, baby.”

“If you don’t get to it, m’gonna fuckin’ ruin you for the whole kingdom to see,” he growls, a truth that’s got him dizzy, words that turn his brain to mush, all coherent thoughts tossed out the window.

Mark unbuttons as much as he can, shoving the cotton to the side and bites down on Donghyuck’s shoulder, laving his tongue over the indents his teeth leave, warm, slick, and messy with spit.

Just the way they both like it.

"Fuck," Donghyuck jolts, nails dragging down the small of his back, making Mark shudder and clutch at the sheets.

“Hey Mark, is Donghyuck with you?”

Jeno’s voice calls, and they groan in unison.

“Yeah, we’re unpacking some things,” he shouts, hoping he doesn’t sound as wound up. His arms are tensed, solid on either side of Donghyuck’s shoulders. He bites again, Donghyuck hissing an expletive.

A cackle comes after. “I’m sure you two are.”

“Fuck off, Jen!”

“Whatever, get decent, Dad said the dragons just landed at the entrance.”

Footsteps pitter-patter away from the doors, until Mark can no longer hear Jeno.

“Yangyang and Shotaro arrived,” he says, nudging Donghyuck. The latter glares at him, face rosy and lips bitten raw. Suddenly, Donghyuck shoots up, knocking Mark over.

“Babe, what the hell,” he sputters. Mark lays sprawled on the bed as Donghyuck buttons up. 

The trunk floats towards them, opening, and Donghyuck reaches in and grabs two other satin bags, one black and the other purple. 

“Mark, I have their presents and candy, we have to go now,” he pesters, and Mark’s body gets abruptly pulled upright with magic.

He fusses over Mark’s hair, brushing the stray blond locks away from his forehead. Donghyuck fixes his collar, gives him one good fucking up and down (Mark swears he has to hold himself back), and kisses him once more.

Donghyuck’s cloak flies from the chair it lay on, swirling around his body until everything fits, not one hair out of place, not a single wrinkle on his clothes. 

“Shall we?” he asks, red eyes darting all over Mark’s face. They land on his lips for a split second before flicking back up to peer right through him, getting into his head.

“I kinda have to,” Mark laughs, linking his arm with Donghyuck’s. “Afterall, I _am_ a prince. Would be discourteous of me, wouldn’t it?”

“Hm. You’re as bad as me,” Donghyuck muses, winking at him.

Mark begs to differ, but they’re already out in the hallway. He thinks that Donghyuck is enough demon for the both of them.

His bracelet glows under his sleeve.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by real life events (do not question it) and yearbook party mark w/ dream beyond live hyuck


End file.
